


Improper Relationships

by mamdible



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: (real art connosoirs and also lesbians will know what im talkin bout), Alternate Universe - Victorian, Blackmail, F/F, appreciation for the female form, takao is a ride or die hoe lets be real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 06:59:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17893724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamdible/pseuds/mamdible
Summary: Takao is the loyal employee and right-hand woman of Midorima Shintarou, the only daughter of a Japanese industrial tycoon. She is also Midorima Shintarou's lover, a job she takes immense pleasure in (for she knows she is loved in return) and guards fiercely. Society might have something to say about it, but they're far too clever to let society know about them.





	Improper Relationships

**Author's Note:**

> hot lesbians in victorian era finding love and being heartwarmingly in love; what more could a girl want?

Midorima is a proper lady, and Takao is lucky to serve her. She truly admires the other woman, is in awe of the steadfastness in which she inherited her father’s company and made it prosper once more. 

Victorian England is the hub of a frothing industrial revolution, a revolution which drew her away from Japan to the smog filled, grey skies of England. She misses her homeland terribly, misses the beauty and elegance that England most unfortunately doesn’t posses. 

Takao was lucky to find work under Lady Midorima. She is lucky to work under Lady Midorima still, and not just because of the ludicrous monthly salary she receives, or the rich dresses and goods that are gifted to her. 

She is lucky because Midorima is gorgeous. When Takao first saw her, she stumbled over her introduction because of just how stunned she was. A delicate face, cheeks pink without rogue and lips free from any paint. Takao felt so clumsy, clad in a kimono, with clumsily applied paste covering the acne scars across her cheeks.

Perhaps it was nostalgia for her home country that made Midorima choose to employ her as a personal assistant, rather than the other, far more competent ladies and gentlemen.

Takao doesn’t really care. She has long since proved herself more than capable. Which is why she is here now, skirts brushing against filthy cobblestone as she stands in an alleyway beside a brothel, small knife in her hand and pressed up against the throat of one Thomas Quinn.

Quinn is rather drunk, cheeks and nose flushed. The drink slows his reactions, dulls the terror he should be feeling, which irritates her a little but it doesn’t really matter. 

As of now, he is an engaged man. He will not be tomorrow, because as of tomorrow he will come clean to the press of his scandalous habit of hiring prostitutes to perform oral sex upon him, and have anal sex done to them. Lady Midorima will discontinue their engagement, disgusted by the promiscuity of her would-be-husband, and she will remain a bachelorette.

It will disappoint her mother, of course, but she is old. She will be passing soon, and Takao almost looks forward to the old bat finally dying, if only so she won’t have to traverse such filthy streets every three or four months or so, in hopes of finding poorly buried filth and sewage that would stain the reputations of the men Midorima’s mother has lined up for her. 

She launches into her usual spiel, bored out of her mind. Quinn becomes more and more agitated the longer he speaks, so she lets the little knife bite into his neck a little. He stills, and she continues.  
Once she’s done, she hurries out of the alley and down the street. If anything, she knows that men when drunk often do terrible things, and she is a woman (if an armed one) alone at night.

That, and the fact that parked on the next street is Midorima’s carriage, with Midorima herself inside. Her shoes click on the ground as she hurries forward, cheeks hot. It’s a chilly night, cold nipping against her nose and fingers.

She see’s the green painted carriage up ahead and breaks into a fairly unladylike run, nearly slamming face first into the carriage in her hurry. She pulls the door open and bounds inside, where a view from heaven awaits her.

Her relationship with Lady Midorima is viewed as inappropriate, perhaps even sinful or blasphemous. But she doesn’t care, not when the curtains to the carriage are tightly drawn shut and Shintarou has undone her corset and shrugged of her dress, leaving only thin petticoats. Her breasts are exposed, and Takao presses her face eagerly into them.

Her nipples are stiff from the cold, and Takao eagerly laves against him.

“Gentle, you brute,” Shintarou admonishes in their shared native tongue. It sounds so much better, so much more natural. A slice of home, a thousand miles away. 

“Sorry, Shin-chan. I’ll be more careful.”

Her body is bony, breasts small. Her frame is imposingly huge, which frightens off most men that want to court her. Those that stay have their lives ruined, but it’s only their own fault. 

And then Takao drags her gaze from ribs and smooth planes of skin, porcelain and pink, up to her love’s face. All the lust drains out of her, all the adrenalin and excitement and terror and fury, because she was nearly a prostitute and she hates the men that could have fucked her.

Midorima saved her, worked her to the bone but Takao befriended her, and then Takao fell in love with her and suddenly Shintarou loved her back and then there was no threat of being back on the streets.

Then a barrage of gifts because it was (and is) so obvious Midorima hadn’t been loved, and certainly hadn’t loved back. 

So Takao collapses on the chest of her love, her wife, her equal in everything and nothing. 

“I’m cold, Shin-chan.”

“I’m the one who was undressed and then left to freeze for nearly twenty minutes, Kazunari.”  
“But it’s warm inside the carriage. Outside it’s freezing!”

They argue playfully as the carriage pulls away from the sidewalk, Takao occasionally pressing kisses to Shintarou’s mouth or neck or breast. There is no hurry, no sense of urgency. They laze around and love each other, and they will always do so.


End file.
